Then he ceased speaking and ate his bread. No one said anything more, unless in a whisper to his next neighbor.
When Markus had eaten he stood up and said: "Thank you. Good night!"
Johannes also stood up, and said anxiously: "Markus, You are not going away?"
"Yes, Johannes. Good-by till we meet again!"
Then he passed silently out of the door, took his cap and coat, and was let out by Daatje. Johannes heard her ask: "How much did you get?" And when Markus said simply: "Twopence," he felt a twinge at his heart. Indoors, no one spoke so long as the creaking of the cart-wheel could be heard. Then the dominie, in a loud tone, and with assumed lightness, said:
"That was a venturesome deed, dear Madam. You ought to be more cautious in future with that altogether too-largely developed philanthropy of yours. That man is known as a very dangerous individual."
Exclamations of astonishment and alarm followed this, and different ladies cried: "Goodness!" "It's a sin!" "Do you know him?"
"Alas, indeed I do!" averred the dominie, with a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. "He is a well-known person—one of those fanatics who incite the people and poison their natures: a nihilist."
"A nihilist!" echoed the ladies, frightened and horrified. Poor Johannes sat listening to Dominie Kraalboom with painful interest. The name "nihilist" did not make him afraid, but such notoriety was a bitter disappointment. It was as if thereby all the mysterious superiority of his beloved friend had been leveled. Had it, then, all been a fraud?
When the circle had taken their leave, and Aunt Seréna was going to bed, he saw Daatje very carefully counting the silver spoons!